His Pretty Boy Alternate
by Movies-R-Us
Summary: Reid is raped and the first person to find out is Morgan, who's been in love with Pretty Boy for months.  Warnings- Rape/Non-con, Language, Slash, some-violence, and more eventually- ALTERNATIVE from "His Pretty Boy"  No past GideonXReid
1. Chapter 1

Reid wasn't normally a man for a bar, but the last case had left him empty and in the mood for hard liquor; something he'd never even sought out before.

"Something bothering you, hon?" a mousy brunette sat on the stool next to Reid's and gave as close to a sultry smile as she could. Reid's mind went through all of the insecurities she most likely dealt with and sighed—he didn't want more problems in his life.

"No, I'm just…" his mind sifted through hundreds of plausible excuses before settling on the most obvious, "Waiting for my girlfriend."

The mousy girl's face fell slightly and she gave a small nod before walking back to the corner of the bar closest to the dance floor. Her hesitant and uncertain steps made him guilty—that must've taken a lot of courage; courage she wouldn't restore for a while.

Reid grew increasingly tired of nursing his Absolut Vodka shot and slowly led himself to the dance floor. Music pounded through the wooden floors; vibrating and pulsing in his legs and head. Eventually the four shots he'd downed began to take effect, and Reid let himself go with the music—funny, he thought, I've never really danced before. Vaguely, he felt eyes on his body, but was sure it was simply his being drunk.

It was two when he stumbled from the bar—he'd have to take the bus; normally it was Morgan or Hotch who gave him a ride home from places. Taking a tentative step forward, Reid fell and landed on his palms and knees.

"Hey. Need some help?" a man with a raging biceps, hardly covered with a too-tight black t-shirt, and an off-putting smirk stopped next to Reid. Before he could reply, hands were cupped in his armpits and raised him off the ground. "Come to my car. I'll take ya home."

"No. No… it's o-o-okay. I'm—I'll take the bus. Thanks-s-s though," Reid gave a slurred and stupid smile before trying to pull away. He frowned when his arms weren't released. "I said, I'm f-fine."

Suddenly he felt himself shoved into an alley-way. "I don't think you are." The smirk on the man's face grew and he held Reid against a grimy brick wall; it was suddenly cold. Very cold.

"Stop it. S-S-Stop it, and let me go. Come-on," Reid knew his whining made him sound innocent, and more child-like, but he couldn't control it as he began to struggle. His arms were flailing and he gave several sad attempts at punching; but the alcohol had him strangely uncoordinated.

"Shhh. Shhh, it's alright you pretty boy, you." When the words escaped his assailants lips he shuddered—Morgan would never be able to call him that nickname without this moment attacking him. He began to scream, but the man pulled a knife up to Reid's throat, "Scream again and I'll cut your throat and fuck your corpse." Reid stopped squirming and stopped shouting; he knew how this would end if he didn't comply—how it might end if he did comply.

Hands were pulling at his sweater and button-up shirt; they were both torn and thrown on the gravel; muddy and stained. Soon his pants and underwear were in the same position. Tears rolled down Reid's face and he blushed angrily as his attacker noticed them and proceeded to lick them away. "Shush baby. It's alright. I'll make it feel better soon."

The words brought bile into Reid's throat but he held the vomit down and his skin prickled beneath the hands that roamed across his back and thighs. He felt nails pull his skin open on the backs of his legs and he felt the same nails mark his pale back. Reid curved his body away from the nails and accidentally into the man. He groaned and Reid regretted his move instantly, "So I see we want to begin, now don't we?"

The man roughly pulled open his pants and removed them; leaving himself bare from the waist down. He twisted Reid around and spat on his hand. Reid began to panic—reciting in his head facts about homosexual sex and the proper way to perform anal sex; neither indicated spit was enough lubricant.

"Please… just… d-d-don't. I can't-t. Not… d-dry." Reid's voice was uncertain and weak; he didn't even know if the rapist could hear it. Even if he had, Reid didn't imagine it would've made a difference. Seconds later an almost completely dry penis smashed into his virgin whole; he couldn't help the strangled gasp that was raked from his chest. Reid was positive he had rectal tearing and he'd have to go to the hospital; could he face that? His team knowing what had happened? He was jerked from his thoughts by the man slamming in a second—then third—then fourth—time. It continued shamelessly for seven minutes; each one more agonizing than the last.

"See, wasn't that everything you'd wanted it to be? Pretty boy… so pretty." The final words elicited yet another whimper and shudder from Reid; who was sure he'd never recover from them. "Now, I have one more little game for you to play? Ready for it?" after waiting for Reid to nod, which never happened, the man continued, "You sure are a dumb-fuck. Whatever, just suck like the slut you are."

The derogatory words tore Reid apart; but he knew, as a profiler should, that some men just wanted to feel dominant—more in control than they really were. Slut was just a word they used to feel important. No matter what excuses Reid made up for the behavior, it still stung.

Sliding down against the man's legs and the wall, Reid felt sticky and bruised. He wanted to curl up and hide; he hadn't felt this way since he was a teenager. He'd been stronger than that for years. But, wrapping his lips around the already hard penis in front of him, he didn't believe he was that strong anymore. Thick fingers entwined in his long and prized hair—hair that thought would never feel clean again—and began to move his head with no remorse. Soon he was swallowing a disgusting load, and was thrown against the wall. The man chuckled and threw a dollar against his naked form, "Thanks for the night, kid. Hope to see you again." It was the wink that followed that finally made Reid vomit. He vomited against the wall and felt the man leave.

Reid struggled for twenty minutes to redress himself. His hands shook and his brain replayed images until they were seared into his vision. He didn't want to ride the bus; not now. Reid did the only thing he could; call Morgan.

"_H-h-ello." A yawn followed immediately after Morgan's sleepy answer, and Reid was sure he heard the man sit up in bed—scared that Reid would be calling him at almost three am. _

"Morgan… I-It's Reid. I n-n-need a ride."

"_Are you drunk, pretty boy?" the resulting gasp that Morgan heard was unexpected, and immediately he was wide awake and standing, "Reid? Are you alright? Reid… are you crying?" _

Reid held the sobs back as he let the tears run down his red cheeks. Why did Morgan have to be such a good listener? "No… I… I'm at a bar, some stupid fucking club on C-Creet."

_Had Reid just sworn? His pretty boy? Morgan chastised himself at his use of the world "his". Sure Reid was the most amazing man he'd ever met, and he'd been in love for months now… but Reid was anything but his. A straight genius with him—unheard of. "I'm coming. Don't move."_

The line went dead and Reid fell to his knees—too weak to stand, but too proud to huddle against the wall. This hadn't happened. This only happened to other people; he was trained to avoid this. Reid was glad the tears had stopped, but he was heaving again and hoped Morgan didn't get there in time to see him puke again. Luck was on his side—for _once _that night—and Morgan arrived ten minutes after Reid emptied his stomach onto the sidewalk. Sadly, Morgan appeared to notice it.

"Pretty boy? Did you do that? Are you _that_ wasted?" Morgan noticed the contortion of Reid's face when he used the nickname. It unnerved him and he pulled Reid off the ground and into the passenger seat of his car. "Why are _you_ dirty?"

"I-I… I'm… I fell."

"That was a shitty lie, Reid." Morgan didn't smile. He was legitimately worried for the young man. What had he gone through tonight?

"I don't want to talk about it. O-Okay?" a slight whimper came out followed by a shiver. Morgan turned up the heat, but knew that wasn't the cause.

"Please. You can trust me. I promise." Morgan's voice calmed Reid slightly, but that was nothing compared to the devastating pain that had shattered him earlier. He wrapped his arms around his chest and sighed; Derek wouldn't let this go.

"Please, don't hate me. It—It wasn't my fault. I swear. I didn't mean to let him… he was stronger than me, and I didn't have time to think. I was drunk! I—," Reid was about to continue explaining before Morgan cut him off.

"Man, would I blame you for anything? If you shot me right now, I'd trust your reason. Just tell me." Reid didn't notice when Morgan pulled over next to his apartment. Reid's eyes were glazed over and his voice became very professorial.

"I came out of the bar at 2am. I was drunk, I'd had four shots of Vodka. I hadn't realized how drunk I was until I fell over. A man came over—he was tall and had on a tight black t-shit—he offered to help me. I let him lift me from the ground, and when he offered a ride, I refused. I didn't condone what happened next. I didn't tell him he could throw me against the wall of the alley. I didn't tell him he could bruise me, or scratch me. I didn't tell him he could pull my clothes off, or fuck me. I didn't tell him I'd blow him. I didn't. I swear Morgan, I didn't. Please, believe me." Reid's words began to jumble as he finished, begging Morgan to trust him. His hands balled into fists and his shoulders started to shake. Morgan's eyes had widened as the gruesome story continued, and soon he'd found himself red with anger. He wanted to fucking kill the bastard that had touched his Reid like that.

"Reid… would you be able to tell a sketch artist about him? Pick him out of a line-up?" Reid tensed when he heard the murderous tone Morgan was using. He'd done something wrong; he shouldn't have told Morgan.

"I'm sorry Morgan. I shouldn't have made you pick me up. It's my fault. I'm sorry."

"No! Pretty boy, it's not your fault." After seeing Reid's fear increase with the use of his pet name, yet again, Morgan started again, "Spencer, it's not your fault. But if you could help me find him, his sick-fuck, I could help you."

"Ya. Y-Y-Ya. I could describe him."

Morgan paused then, nodded and pulled out his cell phone. He dialed Hotch and waited for the groggy answer. They exchanged no pleasantries, just the cold facts—Morgan didn't include many details for Reid's sake, but it was enough to get Hotch just as angry as he was.

"We're gonna nail this sick bastard." Morgan's eyes hardened and he, without warning, began the car and drove towards Quantico. The bullpen and their offices were the only places he knew he'd feel Spencer was safe.

"Where are we going..?" the fear in Reid's voice hurt Morgan; Reid shouldn't have to be scared of him. Not now, not ever.

"Back to headquarters, Spence. We're going to keep you safe while we work this out. Okay?"

Reid nodded before curling into a ball and facing out the window; he tried to sleep and eventually it overcame him.

**A/N- So far I don't have much character, believe me, I know. I will try to get Reid more like he is in the show later, and same with Morgan. I'm going to continue this for a little while, and it will be a little slashy here and there, and there might be some more problems for Reid: I'm not sure yet. Please review, I need to know how to improve. :P Thanks and I hope you enjoyed. **


	2. Chapter 2

Morgan drove as quickly as he could, but it still took over fifteen minutes to reach the BAU. When he arrived the entire unit had assembled in the bullpen, and he was immediately—an surprisingly—cussed out by Hotch, who was in a rage that Reid hadn't been taken straight to the hospital. The entire team was on-edge as they piled into the two black SUVs and drove to the hospital—Morgan, Rossi, Hotch and Reid in one, Prentiss, Garcia and JJ in the other. No one knew any specifics besides Reid and Morgan; Reid was unconscious and Morgan might as well have been for the silence he kept.

"What's wrong with Reid?" Rossi asked with concern etched across his face; frustrated is more like it, Morgan thought. He held Reid up against his side and squeezed his Pretty Boy's shoulder while saying,

"I'm not sure if it's my place to tell. When Pretty Boy gets up, he can tell you. But, right now we have to get him to the hospital and find that bastard. This guy did awful things to Reid, and we are going to find him." Everyone solemnly nodded in agreement and Rossi called Garcia; she whispered to JJ nervously, and soon everyone was ready for a man-hunt.

Morgan didn't waste any time picking up Reid and following the team to the hospital emergency entrance. Once the doctors had Reid on a gurney, and several of the attending had forced Morgan to stay put, they sat in the waiting room; absolutely silent. No one spoke until a grey-haired and completely exhausted doctor entered. His wrinkles spoke more loudly than he did;

"Dr. Spencer Reid?" All six of their heads perked up and the doctor continued, "His case is serious, but it could've been worse. He'll need several days of rest, but we can release him tomorrow into someone's care. He didn't want the Rape Kit at first, but we convinced him otherwise. The results have been sent to the lab and we expect them within a few hours." The doctor bowed his head in a farewell and continued down the hall.

"Reid…"

"I can't believe it."

"What _happened_?"

Morgan paced back and forth across the room; hoping he wouldn't have to admit to the three women what had happened. He couldn't do that to Reid. His _broken_ Reid. His Reid that wouldn't be able to be at Quantico for the next few days; the only place he'd never get hurt. Morgan put his face into his palms and sighed; all he wanted to do was see Reid. To look into his eyes and know that nothing had changed. That would never happen.

"I think I should call Gideon."

Everyone turned to Hotch, who was standing in the corner with his trademark solemnity still intact; it was as though the outburst earlier had never occurred. Prentiss and Rossi nodded, but all Morgan could do was stare and let Garcia hold his hand reassuringly—or as close to reassuringly as she could manage. Rossi left the room, cell phone in hand, to call Gideon.

Hotch walked towards Morgan and put his hand on the black man's shoulders, "Reid will be fine, Morgan. Don't worry yourself. It'll just make it harder on you."

"But Pretty Boy is in pain, and I should've been there earlier. I just thought he was drunk. I didn't know… Hotch…" Morgan sat down, his breathing hitched. Eventually JJ, Garcia and Prentiss had to leave; it'd been hours and they had to sleep. Rossi only agreed to stay because he was worried about Morgan (even though he'd never admit it). Hotch stayed because, 'If a member of his team was hurt, he was going to keep watch.'

They sat in an awkward silence for half an hour before Rossi offered any words, "I hope the kids alright. Do… um… either of you want to explain it?"

No one answered and Rossi stopped talking. Finally the Doctor came out and told them they could see Reid for a few minutes if they wanted to. Morgan jumped up and tore down the halls. Rossi and Hotch trudged sleepily after him; Hotch slightly more attentive than Rossi.

"M-Morgan, is that y-you?" They all heard Reid's normally confident voice broken and battered. Hotch let out a deep breath and entered into the hospital room; hoping Gideon would arrive soon and maybe help Reid like he'd done at the beginning.

"Hey kid." Reid smiled half-heartedly at Hotch, and then turned and offered a thankful look to Rossi. Morgan was kneeling next to the bed, almost lost in Reid's drained face.

"Pretty B—Reid. Reid, how are you? Hows it feel?" Morgan caught himself, but the wince was still visible and Rossi and Hotch shared a look; they were disturbed at what that meant.

"Fine, Morgan. Just a little tired." Reid's cheeks were hot and red, he wouldn't make eye contact with any of the men and his thumbs twiddled uselessly. He had no pent up statistics, no periodic table to mumble; he was empty.

"Kid, we'll take care of things for a few days, you just rest up. I have a guest room if you can't find anywhere else," Hotch gave a smile and walked a few steps further into the cramped room, hoping to make Reid as secure as possible.

"Ditto." Rossi's words were appreciated, but Reid hoped he didn't have to stay with the man who couldn't stand his ramblings. He didn't hate Rossi, he just felt so useless around the older man.

"You _know_ the same always goes for me too," Morgan put his hand on Reid's and Reid nodded.

"I wouldn't want to bother any of you though…" Reid turned scarlet when Morgan immediately demanded he come to his house. Rossi and Hotch both nodded and said their good-nights, Hotch promising to visit the two tomorrow, and muttered something about Gideon that made Reid smile. Hotch nodded and Reid looked himself for several seconds before remembering. Hotch inwardly groaned; it would be a while until the boy he'd come to love like a father would ever be right.

After the two men left Reid broke down and began to cry. Morgan couldn't console him for nearly half an hour, when finally the tears stopped.

"Everyone knows… everyone thinks I'm weak and that I wanted it. Did you see the way they looked at me? God… I'll never be able to work with any of you again."

"Spencer Reid, shut up right now. No one is thinking anything like that about you. We all want you safe and we've already started looking for the ass-hole that did this to you. As soon as you're ready to give us a description we're going to find him and we are going to make him suffer for this." Morgan stood up and pulled Reid into a hug; Reid winced when his back was rubbed, but he didn't pull away. Morgan was almost beaming when he felt his pretty boy cave into him. His heart skipped a beat, but Morgan knew that Reid was not only straight, but that Reid would never be into him; especially now. He sighed and let his Reid lie back down. Then he began to feel sick; lusting after Reid now was awful. It was sick and he was disgusting.

"I'll be back tomorrow morning. I just need to get the guest room ready. Get some sleep." Before Morgan could stop himself, he kissed Pretty Boy on the forehead. Both looked embarrassed, but Morgan left before it could ruin the moment; he wanted to slap himself.

Reid fell asleep, but it didn't last, all night he had nightmares to the point where he stopped trying to sleep and instead watched infomercials until morning. He was bored out of his mind, but at least he wasn't plagued with images of last night. The phone numbers and prices were seared into his memory.

"Morning Reid." Reid was startled out of his fascination with the television by Morgan, who luckily entered holding a cup of coffee. It was black and had four sugar packets in it; just the way he liked it. Reid sighed and grabbed it hungrily.

"Thanks, I've needed a cup." Morgan sat and watched as Pretty Boy drank down the steaming coffee and then laughed when he looked almost expectant for another cup.

"We can get you outta here if you're up to it."

"Morgan, I don't need to be babysat. You could leave me at my place and tell the others I was staying with you. I'm fine, sincerely. I just need to be alone." Even Reid didn't believe the words as they poured from his cracked and dried lips. It wasn't his fault he said the words; they were what he wanted to be true. Reid wanted to go home and sleep; to read a book and shower. He wanted things to be normal. He didn't want to admit the awful thoughts, he didn't want to sleep at Morgan's.

"Spencer. You're coming to my place and that's final." Morgan's tone took Reid by surprise, and he nodded without thinking.

Several hours later the two had left the hospital—Reid in an oversized pair of Morgan's sweats—and had picked up a weekend bag from Reid's apartment. It was surprisingly a lot smaller than Morgan's; Reid must not have company often, Morgan thought with a mix of joy and guilt—so maybe he didn't want Reid with anybody else, that didn't mean he should be alone all the time.

"Rossi called me and said Gideon's going to make it to the apartment today."

"Would… would you l-leave us alone when he gets here? I w-want to talk to him a little bit. Is that okay?" Spencer Reid was nervous talking to him. Morgan's face burned red with anger and more unneeded guilt.

"Sure, Pretty B—Reid, sure," Morgan smiled as best he could and headed towards the kitchen; he made another pot of coffee and sat in silence with Reid for an hour until the doorbell rang. "Okay, kid. I'll go get some eggs and bread or something, I'll be back in an hour or so. You'll be okay right?"

Reid nodded without conviction and Morgan almost second-guessed going to the market, but seeing Reid glow when Gideon walked in was enough to keep him away; Reid needed to talk to someone, even if it wasn't him.

"Gideon… I- I've missed you," the words were simple and quiet but both Gideon and Reid felt the tension and the pain.

"I'm sorry, kid. I've missed you, too. But, I've emailed ever week, like I said," Gideon sat next to Reid on the couch and pulled Reid close to him; a hug without pressure. Gideon was all too aware of the injuries Reid had sustained.

"I know."

They both stopped talking then; Gideon wondering what had happened to the kid, and Reid silently trying to repress all of his anger and helplessness.

"Reid…," Gideon turned Reid towards him and Gideon gave him a small smile—nothing special—and it brought a bigger smile to both of their lips, "Are you alright?" After those words the frowns returned; breaking returned.

"No… Jason, I don't think I'll ever be again. He didn't get to take my virginity… but it was just as bad as if he had. He took so much from me. I just wanted to forget about the case. I didn't want him. The wall was sharp and I was bleeding… I felt all of him. It was too much." Gideon let Reid talk until he had nothing else to say, and then put his hand on Reid's shoulder. It was sweet and simple and it was what Reid needed; gentleness and kindness without pity, without apology.

"I'm sorry he was your first."

"Me too, Jason."

Reid thought about all of the people he'd been with; he'd never gone that far with anyone. He'd given a blow job or two in college—even heavy groping and making out. He'd felt safe and he felt whole; not used and filthy. There had been two men he'd been with, each one for five months. But beneath the surface he wanted more. Reid wanted to love the person he was kissing—Reid wanted the person he was kissing to be his lover. He didn't want them sitting there. He didn't know who he wanted. He'd been with them anyway—abandoning his thoughts.

Morgan opened the door to his apartment and saw Reid and Gideon sitting on the couch; quiet and Reid was almost crying. He felt his stomach drop; not even Gideon could really help his Reid right now. Could anyone?

**A/N- Sorry for how long it took me to update. I was stuck. If anyone has any suggestions can you message them to me… I don't know why but this one just keeps getting me stuck. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I'm guessing 2-3 more before it's over. I think I'm going to throw some of the manhunt and another case in there. (: **


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